It’s been nearly two months since the accident, and I’m still a little shaky. Loud noises make me jump. Visits to the chiropractor and massage therapist leave me weepy. Seems I’ve compartmentalized my emotions, planning to deal with them Later. (That might be part of the reason I remember very little of my life between, say, 14 and 30. Pause as those who know me laugh and nod their heads wisely.)
Now must be Later, because as these knots are released and my muscles moved back into their intended positions, all sorts of stuff is surfacing, demanding my attention. My dreams are vivid and strange. I dream about turning off my mother’s life support equipment. I dream about dozing off next to my father in hospice, unable to keep my eyes open one more minute, and waking up an hour later to find he had passed. I revisit my high school nightly, which is not as carefree a trip as it sounds.
All of this has had the unexpected benefit of reminding me how much I have to be grateful for, despite so often feeling unworthy. Even before this official day of giving thanks for the abundance we have in America, however unevenly distributed it may be, I have been musing on gratitude. I am sincerely grateful for so much…
My husband, who is smart and funny and handsome and has a swanky accent and worships the ground I float above (some days it’s a struggle to take that last one in)
Airbags and seatbelts
My seester, who is - as she has been since she was a child - a daily inspiration to live fearlessly (quote from age 5 when admonished to do something differently: [shaking head] “That’s the way I am.”)
My brothers, both of whom have survived accidents that might have killed them, and navigated their injuries to live with grace
My sister-in-law, who is such an amazing mother, it’s a pleasure just to sit and watch her do her thing
My nieces and my nephew, who are total rock stars
My stepmom, who has the sunniest disposition of anyone I have ever met, and is a constant reminder to enjoy things at face value and not ruin them by studying on them too hard
Texans, so many of whom have made me feel welcome in my new home, despite the fact that I’m from, yes, California
My parents, who sacrificed so much to put me through college, and indirectly made this new life not only possible but prosperous
Trees
Jen, who reminds me that living by your deepest principles is not only easy, it’s liberating, and always has nice things to say about my hair, even if I hate it
Aimee, Kristin, and Mary, who show me that miles mean nothing when you’ve got the internets
The hundreds of butterflies that migrated through our garden this fall
Louise, who has the biggest, most generous heart I have had the good fortune to know, whose friendship with Thelma keeps me hopeful of finding real connection in the world, and who makes me wish I was Cajun even more than I already do
Health insurance
Jack, who is 500 years old but still cuddles with me on my office chair, providing heated, purring lumbar support
Nemo, who is an excellent napping companion, even if her drools and tries to massage my throat with great force
New friends
Old friends
My godmother, my mother-in law, my sister-in-law, and my fantastic women cousins who keep me connected with their funny, corny, and inspiring e-mail forwards
On-line friends and writing venues
Our steel roof, whose tones when struck by drops of rain make a storm cause for pause and celebration
So much more. I’ll stop there because it’s time to get something else I am grateful for (pie!) out of the oven. Thanks for reading my wanderings this year, as I left the rat race for the mouse race. I’m still finding my way…but happily, the road is full of companions that make the journey far less lonely.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Cross-posted at The New Charm School: Jennifer Warwick’s Blog for Recovering Type A Types.
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